


Midnight Waters

by Nycis



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Pirate AU, Pirate Vader time babey, sith!Anakin, this is gonna be long one folks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:00:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28481289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nycis/pseuds/Nycis
Summary: A destined child, stolen away and trained as a weapon, finds himself thrust far from fate's path. No longer a Sith and never a Jedi, Anakin finds a haven in the outer rim; now he has a ship, a family and the tiniest spark of hope.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Hondo Ohnaka & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Cal Kestis
Comments: 87
Kudos: 153





	1. Prologue I

**Author's Note:**

> Strap in and buckle up folks, this is first of three prologue chapters of what is promising to be a very long fic. It will be a bit of a bumby ride at times, especially in this first chapter but stars are only visible in darkness.

Anakin was nine years old, and he knew happiness.

He was old enough to know his life wasn’t perfect. He knew there were other kids out there who didn’t have to work all day, kids who got to play all day and travel the stars. But he didn’t mind. Anakin got to drive a pod racer, he got tinker with droids and, when he was lucky enough, he even got to spend the whole day with his mother. 

His life was full of sparking electronics, adrenaline fuelled races and gorgeous, bright light from the shining twins suns of Tatooine. He didn’t know anything else he could ever need. 

Then the Jedi came. They came in a ship that sparkled like diamonds in the desert noon, promising him a life full of adventure. The chance to make a difference, to see all the stars in the night sky, to protect small boys and their mothers from the monsters that came in the dark. 

They had promised him.

“Qui-Gon, wait up, I’m tired!” Anakin whined, stomping across the sands.

The Jedi turned back towards him, a slightly disgruntled look on his face, “Anakin, we’re almost-” Gui-Gon’s eyes narrowed on the horizon behind Anakin, his eyes flashing with concern. “Get down!”

In an instant, Anakin obeyed his new master, throwing himself to the hot ground below. Nervously looking up, he saw a whirl of black robes with a red blade, a darkness contrasting against the shining sky.

“Get to the ship, tell them to take off.” Qui-Gon rushed into view to meet his foe, green blade ignited in hand.

Anakin wasn’t entirely sure what happened next.

The world became a blur as panic set in, red clashed with green and kaleidoscopic sparks flew. He remembered hauling himself from the ground and running towards their ship, even getting onto the ramp. But then something yanked him back. He felt a sudden, savage force rip him from the entranceway and he tumbled back down onto the burning sand. His vision swum as more shapes moved over him, and the darkness consumed him.

When he next came to, the first thing he felt was the cold. Anakin wasn’t unused to being cold. Even though Tatooine was a desert planet, at night Mos Espa could easily drop to freezing temperatures. But this cold felt wrong, it was synthesised, filtered. 

The next thing he felt was the corrugated metal beneath him; its bumps were perfectly uniform, unlike most things back home. Running his fingers along it, he found the room he was in seemed to be more like a closet, if there was a makeshift bed in it, then it could almost be his room back home. 

The only sound was a very slight rumbling, accompanied by small vibrations, maybe engines. But it was nothing like the engines he’d worked on. This sounded swift and slightly more like a snake, rather than the cantankerous rancors he was used to.

The darkness was absolute.

It continued like that for what felt like hours. Eventually, there were more vibrations, a slight popping his ears; they must be descending. Or ascending, it was too difficult to tell.

Then silence.

And hunger.

And darkness.

It seemed unending, and as more and more time passed, Anakin felt his strength begin to fade but ever-growing hunger kept him from the comfort of proper sleep. The silent void of his cell stretched into a delirious continuum. He scratched and scraped at anything, the floor, the door, himself, just to remind him what was real and what was not. His screams seemed to die against the walls, not even echoing just being absorbed into the darkness. It was hard to separate the conscious from the unconscious as Anakin drifted between the two.

It just went on, endlessly and without an ounce of comfort.

Where were the Jedi? Qui-Gon had promised, and Mum said it was important to keep promises. 

Eventually there was another sound. A pair of footsteps against the metal floor. He wasn’t sure if they were near silent or deafeningly loud, all his senses were too scrambled to make sense of anything. Anakin barely felt like he could even move.

The door opened.

A robed figure leaned over him, inspecting him. Anakin was so blinded by the dim lights behind, he couldn’t even make out any of the figure’s features at first. But every percept in his body sensed danger, telling him to run, to get away, at any cost. His body refused, rooted in place with fatigue.

The robes weren’t the calm browns and whites of the Jedi’s, nor were they the sinister black of the attacker’s in the desert. They were a dark crimson.

“Well, it looks like my apprentice’s excursion was not a total failure.”

* * *

Anakin was twelve years old, and he knew fear.

Sometimes it felt like the pain was the only real thing. His world was now lit not by two bright suns, but by a single dim red light in the ceiling of his quarters. Although the term ‘quarters’ was generous at best. Anakin knew every crevice, every crack of his new home, a spartan metal cell twenty paces across and twenty paces wide, maybe twice as tall as him. 

His food was delivered through a chute, waste disposed through another next to it. His only company were the training droids, which would activate sporadically and attack, sometimes alone, sometimes as a pack. He learned quickly to sleep lightly, and to always keep a weapon near.

His master also came to oversee his training sometimes, a small turbolift embedded in the wall both delivering and whisking him away after. Anakin had tried to escape, of course, he even got the paneling of the wall once. He had sharpened his toothbrush, and used it to pry the metal cover open. But he had nothing to rewire or slice the electronics within, all he achieved was more pain the next day, and no more toothbrush.

“The Jedi lied, they failed me.” Anakin winced, expecting his answer to be met with a retort.

A moment of silence.

“Good.” Sidious’s deep, unnerving voice echoed throughout the chamber. “Why do they fail?”

“They…” Anakin’s mind scrambled as he stared down at the scuffed metal floor. “They are weak.”

“They promised you something they could not deliver. If they had the strength to do what was required, you would not be here. Do not be like them.” He snarled out, unblinking eyes glowing with hate.

“Yes, master.”

“The only promise in life is death. Your birthright is the dirt, you are owed nothing.” His master took a step towards him, lips curling into a sick smile, “But you can have anything in this world, if only you have the strength to take it.”

“Yes, master.”

Sidious took a casual step back, turning away from Anakin, “So tell me, boy, are you strong?”

“Yes, master.”

“Then prove it, or die weak like the Jedi.”

There was the sound of mechanical whirring as the four training droids stepped into the room, each larger than a man, towering obsidian monoliths all of them carrying a different weapon. The first to attack him held a sword; its blade was a blunted alloy, not lethal, but he knew from experience it would still leave long streaks of bruises across his skin. Anakin barely dodged under the strike in time, acting on impulse and muscle memory alone, accumulated over the last few years.

He realised he had left his wooden staff on the ground a few feet away, his path to it was directly blocked by a second droid, this one holding an electrospear. He went towards it, deftly sidestepping the droid’s jab then jumped into a roll, picking up his staff at the same time. He pivoted around just in time to use his staff to parry a mace, which had been aimed directly at his head by the third droid.

Anakin threw his momentum into a kick, using the staff to propel himself at the mace droid. It stumbled back from the force of the attack, hitting the wall behind it with a satisfying crunch. Recovering back into a combat stance, Anakin turned around to find a blast of electricity coming from the electrospear, waiting for him. The current surged through his body as he stumbled away.

He heard the last droid approaching, just not in time. A metallic hand grasped his shoulder from behind, lifting him off his feet. Anakin tried to push away and out of its grasp, bracing his feet against the droid’s artificial abdomen, but to no avail. The arm forcefully slammed him onto the ground, hard. He heard a sharp crack come from one of his bones, the air was pushed out of his lungs, and Anakin was left gasping on the ground, desperately trying to crawl away.

His master’s words rung through his dazed mind. _“You can have anything in this world, if only you have the strength to take it.”_

Was this how he would die, whimpering on the floor? 

Had he not survived years of this hell? 

Was he not strong?

In that moment, Anakin felt all the pain and fear bubble up inside of him, swirling and writhing throughout his entire being like a hungry beast, longing for release. It was like a newfound strength, an epiphany of burning iridescence. It was a deep anger at everything, the pain that every new day bestowed upon him and the creeping fear he felt in every moment. Somehow his broken form managed to stand, turning to face his foes.

And with one desperate, savage shriek he let all the pain out. He felt it flow out of him in cascading waves, a torrent of surging, visceral emotion. It ripped through each of the droids, sparks flying from their shattered circuit boards, bolts being ripped from their sockets, until nothing was left but twisted shards of metal laying scattered on the floor.

There was silence once again.

“Very good, my apprentice.”

* * *

Anakin was fifteen, and he knew pain.

When his master had finally opened the doors to his cell, the light was blinding. Six years of darkness, of hiding in the now familiar shadows, had left his skin colourless and pallid. His body had bulked up with constant training and his hair had grown out, The result left Anakin taking on the visage of a ghost or a vampire, unable to come out during the day for fear of the sun. Even at night, the ever present neon lighting of Coruscant was bad enough.

Lord Sidious had told him to embrace it. They were beings of darkness anyway, clinging to the shadows. They were the monsters under the bed, the fears of their enemies made manifest.

“Let the pain of the light feed your rage, your hate,” His master told him as the pair walked under the dim street lights of a terrace atop a Coruscanti skyscraper. “It will be a constant reminder of your fight against it.”

“Yes, master.” Anakin muttered, looking downwards.

The came to a stop and, with a small movement of his hand, Sidious forced Anakin’s head to raise. He blinked once or twice in the face of the setting sun on the horizon, but managed not flinch or look away.

“See there,” His master snarled, “The very home of our enemies.”

His eyes focussed on the Jedi Temple. Sitting on the horizon, the glowing rays of twilight emanated from behind it. 

“It’s so close…” He mused, rage coiling inside of him like a tightly wound spring ready to explode.

“And yet, we must stay our hand. When we strike, it shall be with total precision, and cause utter devastation. Their Order, their code, their precious Republic, all of it will crumble around them. And when they sink into the darkness, who shall be there waiting for them?”

Anakin felt his fist curl up, nails digging into his hand. “Me.”

“Good.” Sidious gave a small chuckle, the sound of it raising the hairs on the back on Anakin’s neck. “Finally, my apprentice, you are ready.”

He turned to look at his master, silently bowing his head in thanks.

Sidious pulled an object from his robes, a lightsaber. It was a slender black tube ridged with silver rings and a single red ignition switch in the hilt. Some small part of him recognised the weapon, but that was not important now. “You will need a weapon befitting your station. This was a Jedi’s lightsaber, so now you must make it yours. Break it. Pour your hate into its crystal heart, make it bleed and scream until it bends to your will.”

He placed it into Anakin’s waiting hands, who took it with fascination. “Thank you, master. I will make it mine.”

“Of course,” Sidious snapped, “anything less would be failure. Now return to your cell, there is a package for you. A mask to shield your eyes and face while you learn to embrace the pain, and robes to shroud you in darkness. Ready yourself, as I will have use of you soon.”

“Yes, master.” Anakin bowed again and scurried back to his cell.

The mask was a smooth black thing, perfectly fitted to his face. A dark, smooth semi-transparent alloy to cover his eyes. It allowed him to see, but also protected his eyes from both the view of onlookers and rays of light. Ridges over the mouth area concealed a rebreather that could filter out poisons and had a limited air supply. The robes were pure midnight black, form fitting and flexible, complete with a hood that, with the mask on, covered his whole form in darkness.

A weapon. That was what he was now. A perfect blade, forged in the fires of fear and pain, ready to be wielded by his master. Through him, Lord Sidious would carve the shape of the galaxy to come. He was the promised doom foretold, a subtle knife placed above the head of the Jedi.

Anakin Skywalker was gone.

Darth Vader was fifteen, and he knew rage.


	2. Prologue II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Years after the death of his master and defeating a Sith assassin, Jedi Knight Obi-Wan goes about his duties alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is the second prologue chapter of three, this time from a different perspective. Hope you enjoy!

Obi-Wan Kenobi adjusted his hair again. It still didn’t look right, his normally well-combed locks slightly askew. He was sure it was this damned heat, Geonosis was far too hot for any sane person to live on. Yet it was still an inhabited planet in the Republic’s charter, so it was his solemn duty as a peacekeeper to be here. He just wished Quinlan had drawn the short straw instead of him. He’d much rather be on Alderaan right now.

Finally, the squat brown door opened, a protocol droid clumsily ducking while it entered to avoid the height barrier. “Greetings, Master Jedi. I am F3-BI. The Minister will see you now. Please, follow me,” The droid said, before turning around and immediately banging its head on the top of the door frame.

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but smile a little as he followed the droid through the doorway, “Please, it’s just Jedi Knight. I am no master.”

“My apologies. Of course, Jedi Knight.”

The chamber they entered was much larger than the one he had previously been in. It was a circular room that extended upwards into an irregular conical shape. It must have been one of the many spires he saw during his descent into the desert planet. The inside walls were lined with hundreds of rivets, a glass like substance filling them to form a wondrous array of natural lighting. This must be what passed for decadence on Geonosis. 

A central desk ast in the middle of the room, lined with some kind of golden metal- possibly Haysian Smelt. Behind the desk, there was a lone figure waiting for him.

He suddenly felt a shiver run up his spine, like someone had poured some water down the back of his robe. It passed just as quickly as it came, so he brushed it off with little more than a second thought. 

Probably just his nerves.

Obi-Wan bowed in respect to Geonosian, it was maybe one of the most universal signals throughout the galaxy and one of the first taught to him in classes at the Temple. “Good morning, esteemed Minister Ragdal, the Jedi council extends its greetings to you on behalf of the Galactic Republic.”

The protocol droid took a moment, lights flashing before turning to its master and producing a series of clicks, accentuated by rough hand movements. The elderly Geonsian nodded curtly to him and turned back to F3-BI, stating his response.

That was when something felt wrong again. A niggling sensation that sat at the back of his mind, unnerving him, like the shadow of a cloud passing overhead. He glanced back up at the spire above them, the rays of light cascading downwards.

“Esteemed Minister Ragdal recognises Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi and thanks both his order and the Republic for their timely response. However, he apologies for your wasted trip,” The droid relayed.

One of his eyebrows rose in confusion, “My wasted trip? The esteemed minister requested help from the senate.”

“Indeed,” The droid continued, “but fortunately the situation has resolved itself, and so your presence is no longer required. The esteemed minister does invite you to sample Geonisian hospitality before you depart-”

Obi-Wan cut the droid’s pleasantries with a small wave of his hand. “The minister’s communique detailed a rising radical anti-Republic political faction. I’m sure the senate would be keen to know how exactly the situation was resolved.”

The droid turned back to its master, and after another quick exchange, responded, “The esteemed minister would like to assure the senate that the faction in question lost political momentum as fast as it gathered it, and that Geonosis remains loyal to the Republic.”

“The Jedi are trained negotiators and diplomats, perhaps I could still be of assistance to the minister?”

“The esteemed minister thanks Jedi Knight Obi-Kenobi for his offer but politely declines, this was an internal Geonosian political matter which has since been resolved.”

“I’m sure it has, but-”

With a series of angry sounding clicks, Ragdal cut him off, gesturing with one of his arms.

“The esteemed minister asks you to return to the senate with this news and pleads for you to return to your craft posthaste. Please, sir, may I show you to the exit?” The protocol droid gestured to the door they had entered through.

He felt it again, just on the periphery of his senses. A tiny ripple in the Force, emanating with fear and tension.

Obi-Wan stroked his beard in thought for a moment, considering pushing the matter further, but decided to cut his losses there before he could damage any intergalactic relations. It was a well documented fact that Geonosians disagreed on their relationship with the Republic and how closely they worked with other planets and offworlders, even previously resulting in civil war. He gave the Geonosian another deep bow and turned towards the door, frustrated but not entirely surprised.

The door shut behind him with another pneumatic hiss. Despite the minister’s words, Obi-Wan couldn’t help shake the feeling something was wrong. Not only in the Force, but the Geonosian’s sudden reversal and general demeanour suggested some kind of coercion or blackmail. It was obviously a tense political situation, but probably fell out of his jurisdiction as an ambassador of the Republic, even if his Jedi instincts urged him to intervene.

A sudden dagger of cold plunged into his heart.

Obi-Wan felt his legs fail him, falling onto one knee and scrambling to grasp the wall for support. He clutched his chest with the other hand, trying to collect his breath. The off feeling in the Force he had sensed earlier had suddenly blossomed into a sliver of ice cold hate. The cloud overcasting the sun was now a complete eclipse, it was like the Force around him had suddenly been whipped into a whirlpool. Rushing back onto his feet, Obi-Wan tried to shake off the sensation.

“There is no emotion, there is peace,” He recited to himself quietly, the words of the Jedi code somewhat calming the frantic pounding in his chest.

The door behind him suddenly seemed to lock, not responding to the panel beside it. “There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.” As the words steadied his breathing, Obi-Wan reached out. He had never before felt the Force like this. It was an ocean in a storm, vast waves and maelstroms threatening to overwhelm him, but even so he just about managed to navigate it. He found the mechanism in the door with his mind, a simple device, and nudged it to activate.

“There is no passion, there is serenity.”

The door whired open, revealing a terrible sight. Ragdal was raised in the air, mandibles clicking wildly and arms clawing desperately at his throat. Behind him, stood a lone figure, clad entirely in the darkest black with an arm outstretched towards their victim.

Obi-Wan stood still in shock as the Geonosian’s final writhings stopped, and their lifeless corpse dropped to the ground. The hooded figure’s masked face stared blankly at him, its owner motionless. Images of another black robed assassin came rushing back to him, twin suns setting over a desert, the intrusive red glow of ray shields, Qui-Gon’s limp body in his arms.

“There is no chaos, there is harmony,” he reminded himself, drawing the lightsaber from his belt. The ignited blue blade was a familiar comfort to him, and he reflexively maneuvered into a defensive stance.

The black robed figure responded, thrusting a hand forward. The ornate desk screeched as it was dragged from its position on the floor and flung towards Obi-Wan. Barely reacting in time, he dropped into a roll under the object as it collided loudly against the doorframe, shattering into a cloud of splinters and debris. 

Obi-Wan only just had time to get back to his feet before a sudden red blade flashed towards him. He quickly found himself stumbling backwards, desperately deflecting strike after strike from his masked opponent . With a sudden swift spin, he felt a foot collide against his chest with a disproportionate amount of force which sent him tumbling back amongst the remains of the desk. A moment later, and his assailant was already in the air, leaping towards Obi-Wan, their blade held overhead.

“There is no death, there is the Force.” Letting out a breath and extending his hand, the assassin lurched backwards, deflected midair with a push.

The figure landed gracefully on their feet, sliding backwards against the far wall, and Obi-Wan spun back onto his feet, ready for the next assault. Instead, his assailant simply deactivated their lightsaber, tucking it somewhere back in their dark robes, and reached out towards the structure above them.

A ear shattering noise erupted from above them, and Obi-Wan looked up to see hundreds of windows shrieking in protest as they cracked. Obi-Wan instinctively stepped back, raising his arms to protect himself from the sudden shower of glass shards raining down from the spire. 

When he looked to the far side of the room again, the mysterious dark figure had vanished.

* * *

“And you are sure?” The hologram of Mace in front of him flickered.

Obi-Wan nodded grimly from his starfighter’s cockpit. “Without a doubt. Whoever they were, they were trained in the arts of the dark side of the Force.”

“Most concerning, this is,” the small image of Yoda mused, “Yet, expected, also.”

“Yes,” Mace agreed, “We always assumed there would be a second Sith, after the assassin you fought on Naboo.”

“You think this is the master, then?” Obi-Wan asked incredulously.

Yoda shook his head. “Doubt, I do. For their last apprentice, a replacement.”

Mace nodded, “If there really is a Sith lord out there, hiding in the shadows, they would not reveal their presence so readily.”

“Inform the rest of the council, I must. And meditate, I will.” Yoda gave a short bow, “Kenobi, stay safe, you must.”

“Thank you, Master Yoda,” Obi-Wan said as the hologram of the Grand Master flickered and disappeared.

There was silence for a moment between the two Jedi.

Mace cleared his throat, “There was another matter we wished to discuss with you.”

“Yes?” Obi-Wan internally sighed, he expected he already knew what it was.

“We understand you have not given up your search for the Skywalker boy, but it has been seven years and the council would like you to consider taking on a padawan.”

Obi-Wan shook his head, “I promised Qui-Gon I would find him and trained him. He believed Anakin to be the chosen one-”

“A consensus that the council does not hold,” Mace cut him off. “I’m sorry Obi-Wan, but you need to be pragmatic here. Your skills are wasted without a padawan to learn from you, and, as the only living Jedi to have faced a Sith, we need you to teach. Of course, we would never force this burden upon you, but I ask you to think on it.”

“Very well,” he paused for a moment, “I shall think on it.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll have a report for the council by the time I return to Coruscant.” Obi-Wan switched the hologram off, disgruntled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I actually managed to post it on time, expect the same next Friday. Thanks for reading, don't forget to eat something, drink something and take your meds! If you want to come chat, my tumblr is @nycis and you can also find me modding the New SW Canon discord server (DM me if you want a link, it's all very chill and relaxed). Expect the next chapter, same time, same place, next week. <3


	3. Prologue III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After his encounter with Obi-Wan and flight from the subsequent fight, Vader continues his missions on the behalf of Lord Sidious, trying to prove his worth to the Sith lord.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a day late but it's still here! Hope you enjoy.

Vader knew he should have killed the Jedi. He had disappointed his master in two ways, something Lord Sidious had made abundantly clear. He had spent two full standard weeks in the darkness, contemplating his mistakes. Failures like that would not be tolerated again. Not only had he shown weakness, and in front of a Jedi no less, but the council would now know of his existence. 

Prior to Geonosis, he had operated in utter secrecy for a year. No witnesses, no extended fights, not even a security recording of him left unscrubbed. But now he had thrown it all away because of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

He had been most of the way up the spire when he saw the Jedi starfighter land. A complication to be sure, but not one he hadn’t anticipated arising at some point. His mission had been simple: intimidate key figures opposing Poggle the Lesser’s rise to power as Archduke and kill the ones that would not relent. He had been halfway through threatening Ragdal and his hive when the Jedi entered.

And of course, it had to be Obi-Wan Kenobi.

A part of Vader froze as soon as he saw him again, the Jedi looked different, no longer a padawan but now a decorated Knight. But his voice was still so similar. Suddenly, he was Anakin again, a stupid, ignorant, naively hopeful boy on Tatooine.

He had barely managed to hide in one of the many alcoves containing a window in time, after issuing a silent warning to the Geonosisian about the consequences of revealing his presence to the Jedi.

The panic Obi-Wan awoke inside of him didn’t subside either, he knew he had to escape from the fight, get away at any cost before something else inside of him broke.

His master hadn’t let him out on any missions for another few months after that, instead increasing both the difficulty and lethality on the new training droids. But eventually, the previous status quo returned. He was once again tasked as his master’s blade, only kept on a shorter rope this time, one which would be swiftly wrapped around his neck if he failed Lord Sidious again.

That was how Vader found himself inside a Zygerrian palace, red blade ignited in one hand and a dead target severed in twain beneath him. He never asked questions, that wasn’t a tool’s job, he just killed, intimidated or coerced the targets he was given.

Nothing else mattered.

It had been a clean kill, he had crept onto the roof under the cover of darkness and hid in a vent until the morning guard shift changed and gave him the window to infiltrate the palace proper. Then it had just been a matter of slipping between shadows until he reached the target’s bedroom, slipping past the palace’s many servants undetected. He found it odd that the servants all wore the same collar.

Nothing else mattered.

Getting out would be easier, assuming no one found the body and raised the alarm, which meant speed would be crucial. He was a shadow dancing along rooftops in the dawn light, the dim rays now illuminating more of the compound than he saw on the way in. He stopped for a moment, surveying the area around him, not entirely sure why he was doing it, he knew exactly where he had landed his ship.

Nothing else mattered.

Vader quickly realised something about Zygerria, something that hadn’t been in the compound schematics and target background that his master had provided him.

Nothing else mattered.

They weren’t servants. They were slaves. His master’s voice whispered in his mind, telling him this is an example of the failings of a corrupt republic, that these people were weak to let themselves be enslaved, that he should just leave them to their fate.

Nothing else mattered.

There were cages. Pens. Full of people.

Nothing else mattered.

He saw a child crying, her masters about to treat her to the business end of a whip.

Nothing else-

Vader whirled into action, a blur of black and red descending on the slaver like wrath incarnate. The Zygerrian’s head landed on the sand with a dull thud, a moment later his body joined it but neither of his two compatriots lived long enough to hear it. A second swift strike bisected another, followed by a toss of the red lightsaber directly into the third slaver’s chest.

On reflex, the weapon shot back into his hand, deactivating, as Vader looked around at his handiwork. The togruta child looked up at his facade, her eyes so filled with fear. A feeling he knew all too well.

He should kill her.

No witnesses.

He had already unnecessarily jeopardised his mission, and for what? Revenge? His time in slavery had been a blessing compared to what came after. Justice? He had spent years silently cutting a bloody swath through the Galaxy. Kindness? He had stared into the eyes of his victims as he snuffed out their lives.

His master would be most displeased, the punishment for this transgression would be severe. It may have even cost him his life, possibly the only miserable thing he had left in this universe.

The girl tugged at his robes, pulling him out of his haze. How long had he been standing there, tumbling down into a dark void of his own thoughts.

“Hey, we need to go.” She whispered nervously.

So innocent. Did she know what awaited her out there, an uncaring galaxy ready to swallow her whole and spit her back out again.

She tried to tug him again, “Please, mister. We don’t have long before more come.”

“Why?” He felt the words tumble from his lips, spat out through the static of his mask.

There was fear in her eyes, but also a spark of hope. Maybe it was born of innocence or naivety, but it was still hope. It had been a long time since Anakin had any of that, it had all been extinguished in the darkness, smothered by the fires of rage and hate. 

But hope was contagious.

“We need to go.” He realised aloud. “I have a ship.”

There were shouts from around a corner, more Zygerrians. Their window of escape was rapidly shutting and now there were two of them. Anakin turned and started to run, his new found companion taking after him. She looked to be in her early teens, maybe short for her age but nimble enough to mostly keep up with his pace. A right turn, a left then through a courtyard.

Focus. Now was no time to get lost.

A blaring sound in the distance signalled the alarm had finally been raised and commotion started to stir around them, more slavers and guards appearing from doors and balconies. They still weren’t at the ship and now blaster fire started to rain down upon them. He grabbed the girl just in time to avoid a shot, turning down an alleyway, then another twist followed by a sharp right and-

A dead end.

Maybe quite literally in this context. The girl came to an abrupt stop next to him, doubling over and panting, slaves probably didn’t get afforded a good physical fitness if it was not needed.

She looked up at him with pleading eyes, “What now?”

He knew they must be near the ship, but when he had infiltrated the compound he had used the rooftops, not paying much attention to the warren of streets and buildings below. They should have been heading the right direction, but now there was no way through.

“Get on,” He stated, turning to face the dead end, “and hold on tight.”

Confusion soon morphed into a look of uncertain understanding as the togruta girl awkwardly climbed onto his back, her arms and legs gripping around him like a vice. Needless to say, Anakin had never attempted something like this before, but today was seemingly full of firsts. The first time he had disobeyed his master, the first time he had chosen to help someone and the first time he dared to care for far too many years.

The sound of footsteps and shouting grew louder as their pursuers approached, they would be upon the duo any moment now. Anakin knew he would only have one chance at this before a crowd of well armed and angry Zygerrians opened fire upon them. While he could probably survive, probably kill them all, he couldn’t guarantee the safety of his new companion.

“Peace is a lie, there is only passion.” He murmured to himself. 

They weren't going to die today, he wouldn’t let them. He was a dark lord of the Sith, a deadly assassin and weapon of destruction, a pack of slavers on some backwater desert planet would not lay him low. He grit his teeth, summoning his anger.

He took a breath, letting the feeling of determination roll over him. “Through passion, I gain strength.”

He started running, the extra effort of his passenger immediately obvious. While he had spent years being brutally trained he was still young and lithe. Confinement and malnourishment had stunted his growth somewhat.

“Through strength, I gain power.” He spat out the words, his voice dripping with venom and rage.

He felt the gifts of the dark side rippling through his body and, with an anguished snarl, he jumped. Kicking off the left wall of the alley, he propelled himself upwards and away. Anakin felt the girl’s grip tighten as he kicked off the other side into a front flip, over the roof of the dead end they had found themselves in. With a groan of effort, they landed on the coarse sandstone ceiling of the three floor high building.

“Through power, I gain victory.” He recited, letting the doctrine focus his mind.

At the sound of blaster shots, he kept running forwards, red blots flying over their heads and far into the pink sky. Anakin leapt from one rooftop to the next, and the next, until a few minutes later they finally reached the outer wall of the complex. A gate blocking their way, the last obstacle between them and his ship, nestled safely in the dunes beyond.

He mustered the last of his rage and effort, summoning all the energy he could tear from the force around him and threw it at the gate with a desperate battle cry. 

“Through my victory, my chains are broken, the force shall free me.”

The gate blew backwards, shattering the hinges it had previously sat on. Anakin almost collapsed, his adrenaline waning and his stamina spent. The girl caught him, eyes showing an emotion caught somewhere between concern and wonder. He wasn’t sure anyone had ever looked at him like that, apart from maybe his mother, a faded dream from a different life.

Together the pair stumbled into the desert beyond them and eventually, the safety of his ship. His master had gifted it to him for his first off world mission, an heirloom from his previous apprentice and once Anakin’s prison. Since, he had modified Darth Maul’s starfighter extensively, although he still never dared to even open the small storage space at the back of the ship. He replaced most parts, practically rebuilding the thing over a year, and renamed it  _ Midnight. _

It had automatically opened to his presence, letting the duo into the small compartment at the back of the ship and out of the desert sun. They would be safe there, the ship was cloaked from virtually every kind of sensor and scan and he had landed it between two dunes, so it wasn’t particularly visible unless someone was too close.

The pair collapsed against the ship’s cold metal wall, letting out deep sighs of relief. With a wave of his hand, the door hissed shut behind them, sealing them in the artificial atmosphere of the vessel.

The girl looked at him again, the same astonished expression on her face, “Who are you?” She asked, head shaking in bewilderment.

That was a good question. And not one Anakin thought he could answer at any great detail right now, so he decided to keep it simple. “Anakin. My name is Anakin.”

“Ahsoka,” She replied, “Ahsoka Tano.”

A moment of silence stretched between them, neither sure what to do now they weren’t acting on instinct and impulse. It was then that the weight of Anakin’s actions truly started to sink in.

He had betrayed his master.

The price of disobedience was his life, Sidious had made that clear to him. Anakin’s breath suddenly hitched, memories of a figure cloak in crimson cackling as they took him from this very ship. His master would have his revenge, Anakin could envision it now, the pain, the dark-

“Hey,” Ahsoka’s soft voice and pleading eyes cut through his thoughts, bringing him back down to reality. “Are you alright? We’re safe, remember, we’re in your ship.”

Anakin felt tears well in his eyes, maybe for the first time in years. He used to cry a lot at the start, when he was all alone in that dark cell, but crying was a sign of weakness and Lord Sidious did not tolerate weakness. He didn’t trust himself to speak but simply nodded, wiping at his eyes with an arm.

“I don’t want to push you, but we need to get off this planet.”

He nodded again, feeling the erratic beating in his chest begin to slow again. The two of them navigated up the short staircase and past the tiny room that served as his living quarters while on the ship and into the cockpit. There was only one seat, the ship being designed for a lone agent, but Ahsoka managed to find a handhold to grip a hold of while he situated himself in the pilot’s chair.

A few minutes later and they burst through a cloud and into Zygerria’s upper atmosphere, the blues and pinks of the morning giving away to the deeper shades as they approached space.

Anakin turned to look at his companion, an unspoken question shared between them.

What now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember to eat something, drink something and take your meds. Hope you enjoyed, if you want to chat you can find me at @nycis on tumblr, or on the New SW Canon discord server (ask if you want an invite, it's a lovely community). See you all next week for the start of the Act I and the story proper!


	4. Act I, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few months into the Clone Wars and Obi-Wan discovers something troubling on the surface of Christophsis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Onto the story proper! This is where it slows down a bit, the pace of the story will vary depending on what my dumb brain wants me to write, so please bare with me. Note: This chapter wasn't beta'ed, didn't find one in time, so if you find any errors, do let me know.

Obi-Wan took another long look at the tactical holo display in front of him. The 212th’s invasion of Christophsis was progressing well so far, squads were pushing fast to the north and east of their landing position while their southern flank was meeting resistance.

He sighed to himself, “I hate doing nothing.” He murmured, almost too quiet for anyone else to hear. And it was true, there were men out there giving their lives to reclaim this world and Obi-Wan was sitting safely aboard the  _ Negotiator _ . Even if he knew it was the strategically sound move.

“Then, why don’t we go down there, master?” A voice came from his side, the ginger padawan also staring intently on the map in front of them.

“Patience, Cal. Besides, I’m not sure you’re ready for active combat yet.”

“I am! I’ve been practicing just like you said all week, and some of my friends are already out there fighting.”

Obi-Wan let out another sigh, his padawan wasn’t wrong, but the battlefield was no place for a child. “Patience, always. You see these numbers of enemy droids we’re encountering?”

Cal Kestis nodded, leaning forwards to eagerly scrutinise the readout again.

“Do you notice anything about them?”

The boy’s forehead scrunched, not wanting to disappoint his master, “We’re winning?” He managed, a twinge of confusion in his voice.

“Yes, but our intelligence about their forces suggests a large number of their droids are missing.”

“An ambush?” Cal turned to him, eyebrow raised.

“Likely,” Obi-Wan nodded, “Or possibly, the enemy general is waiting for us to overextend our own forces. So we must also hold back a reserve force, to use where most needed. It’s just like when using a lightsaber, never put all your strength behind a single attack, patience and balance are the allies of a skilled warrior.”

“General.” The clone marked in yellow approaching Obi-Wan gave a salute to the pair of Jedi.

“Please, Cody, the salute isn’t necessary. Do you have something for us?”

“Yes, sir.” With a gesture, the commander zoomed in on a section of the northern flank of the battle. The fighting had advanced through the city and out into the nearby territory, the clones making quick gains. “Our scouts have encountered something strange. The clankers’ battle lines have broken in two, one group retreating west and another north, but avoiding this area here.”

“What is it?” Cal muttered, straining for a closer look.

“A mining facility, or at least it used to be. Records show it was decommissioned five standard years ago.”

Obi-Wan let out another contemplative sigh, it was unlike droids to deviate from their patterns, the facility must be important somehow, he could feel it. “Have our main force hold position and reinforce our troops in the south. Send me the location of our scouts and I’ll meet them down on the surface.”

Cal looked up at him expectantly, his hand instinctively moving the lightsaber at his side.

“I’m sorry Cal, it might be a trap, and if it is, I can’t have you by my side. Stay here and observe the battle.” At his padawan’s crestfallen look, he added, “Soon, I promise.”

* * *

Obi-Wan adjusted his cloak again as he exited his starfighter, the surface air of Christophsis was cool in the evening breeze. Ahead of him stood two clones, both knelt at the edge of the ridge, one turned away with macrobinoculars in his hands. The other gave the Jedi a quick salute as he approached.

“CT-8501, Longshot, sir.”

“What’s the situation?” Obi-Wan nodded in greeting.

“No movement, but thermal scans show a handful of beings inside. Mix of rodians and humans by the look of it, approximately twenty to thirty but the machinery makes it hard to get an accurate reading.”

“The facility is operational then?” The Jedi mused.

“Operational but not currently operating.” The clone replied, “the lights and generators are running but none of the heavy machinery.”

“Refugees?”

“Possible, sir.”

“You have an alternative in mind, trooper?”

“Yes, sir. Illegal operation run by opportunistic criminals, set up when the Separatists took over. We’ve seen this kind of thing before, smugglers, black market dealers, crime syndicates, all taking advantage of the war.”

Obi-Wan gave a thoughtful nod, “Do we know if they’re armed?”

“General, you should see this.” The other clone put down his macrobinoculars, turning to face them, “I’ve spotted some clankers, but they’re all in pieces, something tore through them. The droids might have avoided retreating by the facility because they knew it was hostile ground, could be friendlies inside.”

“What was your name, trooper?”

“Gearshift,” The clone replied, giving a curt salute.

“It could also be bait,” Longshot conjected, “trying to lure us into a trap.”

“Either of you could be right, but there is only one way to find out.”

“Sir?” The two clones echoed in unison.

“Signal our forces to form a perimeter around the facility but keep their distance.” Obi-Wan adjusted his cloak again, making sure his lightsaber was easily in reach, “Longshot, Gearshift, let’s see who’s home.”

It took the trio a ten tense minutes to cross the distance along the sharp crystalline surface from their position to the base of the mining facility. It was a towering structure, durasteel walls stretching above them towards the overcast sky. Some sections had obviously been reconstructed or were entirely new additions, resulting in a patchwork retrofit of the facility to more or less make a fortress.

Gearshift had been right, the ground around the structure was littered with parts of droids. Stray parts and broken blasters laid scattered as Obi-Wan crouched to inspect them.

Longshot knelt next to him, picking a severed droid arm and turning it over in his hand, “This definitely wasn’t blaster fire. Not enough scorch marks and too much damage, maybe they have a mounted turret or some kind of energy weapons?”

“No,” Obi-Wan shook his head, “Look at the patterns, they are scattered in every direction. Some kind of turret or turbolaser would have blasted them back, not outwards all over the place.”

“Bombardment, then?” Gearshift suggested, “Either from gunships or orbit.”

“The cuts are too precise,” The Jedi shook his head a second time, it was a sight that was becoming depressingly familiar to him over the last six months. “A lightsaber did this.”

Longshot glanced at him, “Another Jedi is here? General, I thought you were the only one planetside?”

Obi-Wan’s face darkened, brow furrowing, “I am.”

The inside of the facility only posed more questions to the trio. Obi-Wan counted over two dozen bodies, this time of organic beings, each with more lightsaber wounds. They wore mismatched clothing, mostly resembling armour, but not uniform; however they did all share the same insignia, a series of concentric gold and white circles. The top and bottom halves of each circle was inverted, perhaps leaving the impression of a moon or a sunrise, either way, he didn’t recognise it.

With each body discovered, a creeping sensation of unease curled further into his stomach. Looks of shock and fear were forever etched into each beings’ face and Obi-Wan became more and more sure; no Jedi had done this. Whoever the assailant was, they had obviously caught the guards by surprise, dispatching each and every one as they encountered them, cutting a bloody swath through the corridors of the facility.

That was until they reached the barracks.

A group of ten or so guards must have been asleep when the assailant entered, a few were dead in their beds while a group had obviously tried to put up a fight. 

Fight was a generous term. This was a massacre.

“You’re sure, sir?”

Obi-Wan nodded, “Unfortunately.”

“One person did all this? With a lightsaber?” Gearshift shot his comrade an incredulous look under his helmet.

“Yes, and I have an inkling of who it might be. If I’m right, it will certainly complicate things.” Obi-Wan closed the door, turning away from the ghastly sight, “Gearshift, where were those lifesign readings coming from?”

“Down this way, sir.” The clone took off, clutching his rifle a bit closer to his chest.

It took them another five minutes of winding corridors and badly maintained doors for the trio to descend into the bowels of the mines. The modern structure gave way to narrow tunnels carved out of the harsh crystalline crust of the planet.

Obi-Wan felt the beings before he saw them, the sense of fear and anxiety permeated the rock and darkness much easier than light.

“Hello there,” He called out to the tunnel in front of him. There was a flickering of small lights and panicked voices in response, through the dark he could make out the tunnel widening into a cavern.

“Who goes there?” A shaky voice greeted the Jedi, “We’re armed.”

“We come in peace, friends. I am Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi of the Republic.” He carefully stepped through the carved tunnel into the cave, hands raised. A group of beings sat huddled around a series of low lights, by the looks of it, they were emergency survival kits that provided heat as well.

A few of the figures visibly relaxed at the sight of the Jedi, lowering drawn weapons and letting out sighs of relief. Others kept their weapons trained on him, glancing over at a human standing at the front of the group, the leader by default if Obi-Wan had to guess.

“Please,” He lowered his hands slowly, “We only seek to help and find out what happened here. These are clone troopers Gearshift and Longshot.” He gestured for the clones to enter the cavern behind him.

After a few tense moments, the leader gave a slight nod and lowered her weapon, the remaining beings behind her that were still armed, following suit.

“My name’s Rose.” The human said reservedly and settled a suspicious eye on the Jedi, “We were all taken prisoners by pirates, made to work down here.”

“Slaves?” One of Obi-Wan’s eyebrows raised.

Rose nodded, “They hijacked an our shuttle from the Outer Rim and took us here a few standard months ago.”

“Do you know who they were?” One of the clones asked from behind him.

“Not really,” She shook her head, “But I think Tink said she heard them call themselves Crimson Dawn. They must have some kind of agreement with the Separatist leaders here because the droids never came close.”

Obi-Wan nodded, the war presented many people on every side the opportunity to profit at the cost of others and bribery was becoming more of a widespread problem. “Well I can assure you, they will not be coming here in the future either.”

“We heard the fighting, came down here to shelter.”

“Meaning you were already free from your captors when our attack force arrived,” He paused for a moment, wondering how to ask his next question diplomatically. “Which would beg the question, how?”

Rose tore her eyes away, looking to the floor and gulping nervously. “Three days ago the shadow came.”

Obi-Wan felt a grimace force it’s way onto his face, memories of a figure robed in black filling his mind again. A red blade whirling through the air and clashing again his own. The sudden onslaught of cold as the Force around him erupted with hate and fear.

He involuntarily shivered at the thoughts, “What happened?”

Rose shook her head, “It was all such a blur, we heard shouts and fighting, but couldn’t see much from our cage. The shadow freed us, they ripped the door off its hinges and left. We were terrified but when they never came back and when he left, they were all dead, along with the droids outside.”

A rodian stepped out of the crowd, “I heard droids come to investigate what was happening… they never even made it inside. I’ve always heard stories of creatures that live in the unknown region, monsters that come out in the dark to punish the wicked, but I thought they were all just myths.”

Obi-Wan stroked his beard in contemplation, “Your shadow may be a monster, but I promise you; they are flesh and blood just like you or me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Remember to eat something, drink something and taken your meds. @nycis on tumblr, come say hi <3


	5. Act I, Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin returns from Christophsis with his latest bounty, ready to make a deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the plot continues, thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!

The _Midnight_ descended through the ever dusk skies of Nar Shaddaa undetected, as always. Anakin was still yet to encounter any passive security system the ship couldn’t slip by. He flipped a switch and the hangar bay doors below folded inwards as he deftly piloted the vehicle to the ground without so much as a bump.

Anakin stretched as he got up from the pilot’s seat, it had been a long journey back from Christophsis but it had been worth it. He pulled his long brown coat from the back of the chair, swinging it around his back and on over his rough worn vest. His blaster was still in its holster on his hip, you could never be too careful on the Smuggler’s Moon, and he felt the reassuring shape of his lightsaber tucked in a pocket inside the coat’s lining. His combat robes and mask were already safely stowed away in a secret compartment in his cell on the ship, but his lightsaber always remained nearby.

There was hydraulic hiss from the back of the ship as the boarding ramp descended, revealing the hangar’s grotty interior.

“You’re late.” A voice called out from the hangar as the ramp hit the floor to reveal Ahsoka, welding mask pulled up and a deactivated torch in hand.

Anakin felt a small smile creep on to the corner of his mouth at the sound of her voice, “What, you get worried or something?”

“Like you don’t give me reason to.” Ahsoka smirked, “So, what happened?”

“Hondo’s tip actually paid off, for once.” Grabbing a bag from the floor of the ship, and holding it high for Ahsoka to see, he sauntered down the ramp.

“Hey, we served on his crew for over a year, I think we can afford Hondo a little trust.”

“Yeah, right,” Anakin rolled his eyes. There was a punctuated silence for a moment, it had been almost impossible for him to trust anyone, besides Ahsoka. Even then, it was something they had to keep working on, trust was a concept as alien to Anakin as the sun was to a shadow.

“Well, he gave us a ship.”

“He gave us half a ship, at most.” Anakin corrected her, “Speaking of, how’s it coming? Did you fix those reactor manifolds yet?”

“Yep!” Ahsoka grinned up at him as they turned away from the  _ Midnight _ , “And I think we should have a working life support system.”

“Should?” He laughed, it was a rare sound but one of Ahsoka’s favourites, “Doesn’t exactly inspire confidence, Snips.”

She shook her head as the door in front of them opened into a larger, adjacent hangar. The ship parked there was the chassis of an old freighter, it was in such terrible condition that Force knows how Hondo even got it here. The pirate had been going to sell it to scrapers before Anakin had intervened, he couldn’t stand to see such an elegant ship be destroyed. So when he had offered to the pair as a parting gift, they had jumped on the opportunity. They only had a meager amount of credits between the two of them and it had been a long journey to restoring it, but finally it was almost ready.

“Anyway, you’re holding out on me. What happened on Christosphis, the Holonet said there’s fighting there?”

Anakin nodded, “I saw the Republic ships on my way out, but it was those Crimson Dawn thugs again.”

“Damn, they’re everywhere these days.” Ahsoka scowled, “They give you any trouble?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“Do I want to know what that means?” She shot him a suspicious look, “Nevermind, what happened to sneaking in and stealing their latest shipment.”

“I got it. But…” Anakin stilled for a moment, the warmth dropping from his face, “They had slaves, Ahsoka. They kept them in a cage.”

She felt the uneasy feeling in her mind that came whenever Anakin got angry, not just upset or annoyed, but a deep well of rage that she would always have to try and slowly ease him out of. Carefully, she reached out with an arm, placing it on his shoulder. He wasn’t good with touching either, but the odd piece of gentle physical contact seemed to ground him sometimes.

After a moment, he put his hand over hers, letting out a deep breath, his voice suddenly shaky. “I was in control, I promise. I just… I just couldn’t leave them there, do nothing.”

She nodded, “I know.”

There were some subjects that Ahsoka knew she needed to carefully tiptoe around, slavery was one, and one far more common than she liked, the Jedi were another. Anakin’s past was completely off limits too, she had gleaned bits and pieces of information here and there and could infer a lot more about the rest but she was sure he would tell her one day, when ready. But for now, she would watch out for him and help where she could.

The pair remained like that for a while, the ever present noise of Nar Shaddaa outside and the low hum of machinery breaking the comfortable silence.

“Come on,” Anakin murmured, “We should move this as fast as possible, and Hondo will want his cut.”

“If we’re lucky, he might not even try and swindle us for extra. Hopefully he found us that buyer too.”

Anakin gave a small hum of agreement and nodded.

“Give me a few minutes to finish this and lock up?” Ahsoka gestured to the ship next to them, access panels hanging off the patchwork exterior.

He gave another nod as she pulled the welding mask back over her eyes and retrieved the torch from the floor beside them. Anakin gave her handiwork a cursory glance, it looked good. Ahsoka had come a long way over the past year or so, not quite the engineering prodigy he had turned out to be, but she was smart, persistent and hard working.

He unshouldered his bag, carefully placing it down on the floor with a few clanks. Opening it, the series of metal cylinders inside reflected the sparks from Ahsoka’s metalcraft behind him. Anakin was pretty sure the goods would be safe in the small casing units, hopefully they’d at least remain stable enough not to blow them up before they met whatever buyer Hondo had. It wasn’t an ordinary good, even on the black market, which is why he had been so surprised to learn Crimson Dawn had started to mine it but the galaxy was a large place and there was a market for anything.

He just wondered what kind of being was interested in buying Kyber crystals.

* * *

“Ah! There they are, my two favourite prodigies, and right on time, too.”

Anakin and Ahsoka had barely stepped through the cantina door before Hondo Ohnaka’s distinctive voice boomed out towards them. Despite himself, Anakin felt a small smile curl onto his lips.

“Hondo.” He returned in greeting, giving the Weequay a small nod as the pair walked through the warren of gamblers, criminals and revelers. As they neared the table, they could see the pirate more clearly, looking relaxed and lounging on a deep red chair with a blue Nautolon across the table from him.

“I was just telling my friend about our escapades on Naboo.”

Anakin raised an eyebrow, “The time you crashed our ship into a lake and we had to fight off Gungans or the time I had to save you from those Bogwings?”

Hondo’s expression faltered for a second before he laughed and turned back to the Nautolon, “Kids, they love to exaggerate. Anyway, where are my manners? Anakin, Ahsoka, this is my good friend Ojo.”

“Good evening,” Ahsoka offered politely as Anakin gave him a curt nod, eyes wandering cautiously over him. The Nautolon wore a long white cloak over his blue skin, it looked well made, and more importantly expensive, and the way it pooled around his waist on the seat suggested a blaster, ready to be drawn. Although that was hardly unusual on the moon, especially in a cantina with a reputation like this one.

Ojo returned the gesture, “Greetings. Hondo here says you have recently obtained some rare and interesting cargo.”

“And very valuable,” Hondo interjected with a grin.

Anakin pulled a stool over to their table, sitting down but not relaxing. “Indeed. Although I must warn you it was hard to come by.”

“And dare I ask how you acquired such a niche cargo? It’s not a good that most trade in.”

“I think it’s better for everyone if you didn’t.” Anakin narrowed his eyes slightly, “You know how this works.”

Ojo flashed him a grin, tentacles shifting over his shoulders as he adjusted his head, “Well then, I assume you require a high price to be persuaded to part with it. Let me assure you, my employer has deep pockets and will be willing to compensate you generously. Although I do need to inspect the goods first, of course, to make sure they are the genuine article.”

“Of course,” Anakin murmured, reaching over his shoulder to retrieve the bag there. Something about the Nautolon gave him pause, it all seemed too easy, too neat. No one on Nar Shaddaa ever made a deal without at least trying to rip someone else off, besides, Hondo didn’t exactly have a good track record of reliable associates. Wordlessly, he retrieved one of the small cylindrical house units from the bag, holding it out so the small grey crystal was clearly visible through the transparisteel centre.

Ojo studied it intently for a moment before holding a hand out and looking back up to Anakin, “May I?”

His first reaction was to decline, snatch the bag and leave, but that would leave Hondo in a lurch with his contact. Also they needed the cash, retrofitting  _ The Twilight _ had put a worryingly large dent in their savings. Tentatively, Anakin handed the Kyber crystal over, his other hand instinctively ghosting over his lightsaber, safely nestled in the lining of his long overcoat.

The alien took the tube thankfully, rotating and flipping it over in his hands. His eyes expertly wandering over the item, scanning up and down the tube, taking in every detail.

Something about how precise, how experienced, Ojo clearly was, tightened the knot in Anakin’s stomach. He felt his eyes flit around the room, dancing from patron to patron. He was far from a regular at the cantina, but it certainly seemed fuller than he expected.

“Well now, I have to congratulate you, Hondo.” Ojo looked up, casually offering the kyber crystal back to Anakin, “If these are forgeries, they are much better quality than your usual tat.”

Hondo leaned back in his seat, an indignant expression on his face, “You are lucky I will choose to ignore that comment. I think maybe you need to be more polite with your business contacts?”

“Or maybe, I need to be more selective with my business contacts.” Ojo turned back to Anakin, giving him another look up and down, like he was regarding him for the first time again. “You, young man, can certainly deliver the goods. I don’t think I caught your name.”

“No, you didn’t.” Anakin replied coolly.

“Excuse me, young Skywalker is my protege, I taught him everything he knows and you’re not going to steal him from under me.” Hondo stood up and leaned forwards, one hand defiantly placed on his hip and the other gesticulating wildly.

Anakin let out a silent sigh, hand clenching into a tight fist under the cover of his coat. A voice in the back of his mind began whispering just one word to him:  _ run _ . He could feel the sensation in his core spread, his whole body starting to tense up. 

His eyes silently met Ahsoka’s, he wasn’t entirely sure why but she always seemed to know what was going on in his head.

“I assure you, Hondo, I’m here purely on business, not recruitment.” Ojo continued, a sly smile on his face, “Although it never hurts to make new friends, does it?”

Hondo sat down again, somewhat indignant. “Well then, let us do business.”

Ojo nodded, “Now I know you actually have the goods, I will contact my employer and arrange a price. Just a moment, I promise you won’t regret this.” The nautolon stood and began to walk away from the table, wiping a speck of grime off his immaculate while suit and fishing in a pocket for a comm device.

“He’s lying.” Anakin murmured, not entirely sure where his insight was coming from, “I thought you trusted this guy?”

Hondo shrugged, taking a sip of his bright cyan drink, “Everyone lies, it’s just part of the dance we do in this line of work. He’s always been reliable before, never short a credit.”

Ignoring the weequay, Ahsoka nudged Anakin’s side, eyeing him with concern, “Are you sure.”

Anakin nodded gravely, “We need to leave.” He turned his head toward the door Ojo had exited, but found only a small crowd of the cantina’s patrons. A few other beings rose from their window seats and made to leave, when the tiniest detail caught Anakin’s eye. On the vest of a patron, poking out from under the human’s overcoat was a few rings of a white circular design. It was amateurly sprayed on paint, but he recognised it still.  _ Crimson Dawn. _

“Nonsense,” Hondo laughed, “I’ve got a good feeling about this-”

The weequay was suddenly interrupted by a hail of blaster fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter should be out next Friday, but it might be a bit delayed, hopefully not. Remember to stay hydrated, eat something and be kind to yourselves <3


	6. Act I, Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan and Cal leave Christophsis to chase a lead on the Sith assassin and make a unwitting discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back, sorry for the week's hiatus, I am out of prewritten chapters so while I am going to keep trying to post every Friday that is going to be contigent on my brain wanting to write. I am still set on writing this story however, so it will come... eventually. Enjoy and hopefully see you next week! <3

“We’re about to drop out of hyperspace, sir.” The intercom crackled to life with the pilot’s voice, “Descent into the atmosphere shouldn’t take long.”

Obi-Wan Kenobi slowly let out a deep breath, allowing feeling to flow back into his body. Even with his eyes closed, he could feel Cal twitching in his seat. He sensed the padawan was nervous, scared even. That was no surprise, he had just spent the last two hours meditating but could still feel a small prickle of unwavering skittishness deep in his gut.

“Trust in the Force, padawan.” The Jedi master opened his eyes, stirring his body into activity as he gracefully picked himself up from the floor of the ship’s cabin. “All will be well.”

Cal hesitated for a moment but put on a small smile of faux confidence, “Yes, master.”

Obi-Wan walked towards his padawan, sitting down in the adjacent seat, “You have questions?”

“I just don’t see why someone else couldn’t have gone, we still had a lot to do on Christophsis.”

“Commander Cody has everything under control and the Seperatist forces are in full retreat across the southern hemisphere.” Obi-Wan let out a small sigh, “Besides, if I am correct, then I have history with our quarry.”

Cal turned to look up at him, the smile gone, instead replaced with trepidation, “You really think it’s the Sith assassin?”

“I do.” He nodded grimly, “I can always have Longshot take you back to the 212nd, I’m sure Cody would enjoy the assistance.”

Cal grunted and looked down at the ground, collecting his nerves before turning back to his master with a more determined expression. “No. I can do this.”

With a slight shake, the luminescent swirls of blue light visible through the cabin’s small windows ceased as the craft exited hyperspace. Instead there was the inky, all consuming blackness of real space, a thousand tiny distant stars twinkling defiantly against the darkness.

“Now, Cal, I can assure you this place will be quite different to any other we’ve visited before. Pull your hood up, keep your wits close and your lightsaber closer still.”

“Starting our descent now, sir.” The ship’s intercom crackled to life again, the clone’s familiar voice offering a new announcement. “Welcome to Nar Shaddaa.”

* * *

It was the fifth cantina they visited which finally turned up a lead, a zabrak barkeeper’s half-brother’s friend’s son who had supposedly seen a demon with a red blade a month prior. It took even longer for the pair to track down the person in question but eventually, Obi-Wan and Cal sat across a stained and concerningly sticky table from a half drunken, boastful weequay. Obi-Wan hardly enjoyed having to trawl through disreputable dingy bars, although there didn’t appear to be any reputable or clean establishments on the smuggler’s moon, but it was part of the job. The Jedi were sworn to protect everyone, it was their duty, even down to the last unfortunate, taking shelter in a place like this.

“Waht do you want?” The weequay slurred, eyeing the pair with equal parts suspicion and interest.

“Skragg, isn’t it?” Obi-Wan politely asked, pulling down his hood.

“Depends,” He shrugged, brow furrowing and eyes focussing, “I’ll ask again; what do you want?”

“A story.”

Skragg laughed, “Go ask your mother, I’m sure she can tuck you in.”

“About a being dressed in black, with a red lightsaber.” Obi-Wan added calmly, unphased. “I assume we can come to some kind of arrangement.”

Skragg’s laughter stopped abruptly, and after a moment nodded somberly, “You’re on Nar Shaddaa, everything has a price, even you and your little padawan.”

Obi-Wan felt himself tense slightly, “I assure you, that would not be a wise move.”

“Oh, I know.” He chuckled and held his hands in mock surrender, “Now about my price.”

Obi-Wan could feel himself internally groan, “Credits?”

“It’s true! Jedi can read minds, I’m starting to like you.”

“Tell us your tale first, then I will judge if it is worth anything.”

Skragg narrowed his eyes at the Jedi, “Credits first, how do I know I can trust you?”

Saying nothing, Obi-Wan returned the stare with his own withered gaze at the pirate.

“You make a good point, fine.” The weequay conceded, “Before the war, I used to run with a crew called the Ohnaka gang.”

“Hondo?” Obi-Wan straightened up slightly at the name, “Hondo Ohnaka?”

“That’s right, you’ve met then?”

He grimaced, “I’ve only had the displeasure once.”

“We were on Mataou, desert planet, was run by one of Hutts, outer rim kirffhole but has important trade links to certain high end buyers on Corellia. So, one night when the rest of the lads were getting drunker than a fish on Mon Cal, I went out to try and make some new friends in low places, me being the enterprising businessman I am. I managed to slide into this Hutt’s palace disguised as a servant or whatever because he’s having this fancy party. I’m about to slip into the toilets to get change and come out looking all dignified and whatnot to start chatting when I hears this horrid sound. It was like, I dunno, I can’t even describe…”

“Well that is what I am paying you for,” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, “I assume this tale has an end at some point.”

The weequay waved him off, “Yeah, yeah, I’m just getting to the good part. Anyways, there’s this scream and then a giant thud and splat. Everyone stops, whole bustling floor of these fancy folk just stop and stare. And there’s this rank stench, like meat that’s been cooked in the desert sun for a few days. The Hutt’s been watching his whole shabang from a balcony overlooking the party, but suddenly his head is on a table right next to me, his eyes gazing up at mine. And then the rest of his body flops over the balcony and hits the ground like [thing]. Anarchy breaks lose everywhere. Some people start screaming their heads off, a bunch of lads pull out the blasters they smuggled in and then a whole army of this slug’s guards run in. I start legging it because I don’t want to get caught in whatever karkstorm is about to erupt behind me. And mind you, I’m still dressed as a servant, so everyone is ignoring me as I run out the palace. Eventually I make it out and just collapse against a wall, heart still pounding its way out my chest when I hear blasterfire from around the corner. I peak my head and see these guards all firing at something, there must have been at least ten of them, and these are bulky lads too, kitted out with proper blasters and everything. I can barely see anything, what with all the blaster bolts zooming about, but it’s this black and red blur, all spinning and jumping around. And then it all falls still because whatever that thing was killed them, and I mean all of them, just like that. That’s when I finally get a good look at it, but even then it’s like the shadows are sticking to it, black head to toe. He had one of those lasers swords like you lot use but it’s this evil crimson, I swear I’ll never forget that colour, like blood and fire and death. And then it looks at me. I’m far away but it’s got these big black eyes and they fix right on me. I’m scared out of my skin, so I whip right back round the corner and pray to whatever god’ll have me. I don’t know how long I sat there but it never came for me, and I thank my stars every day for that.”

Obi-Wan regarded the pirate for a moment, trying to discern the slightest sign of mistruth on his face, but even in the Force he detected no lie.

“So, how’s that for a story?” Skragg said, putting on a brave grin. Even so, Obi-Wan could still feel the trickle of fear seeping from him at just retelling the tale.

“I’d say you’ve earned your credits,” Obi-Wan begrudged, taking a small credit stick from a pocket in his robes, “And that you were very lucky to still be wearing a servant’s uniform. Is there anything else you can tell me about him, any detail could help.”

“Ha,” Laughed Skragg, swiping the credits from the table, “I’m still not convinced it was a person at all, but there have been whisperings. Over the last year or so I’ve heard of a few similar encounters, was the only reason I didn’t think I was mad.”

“And what do these whispers say?”

“Not much. There don’t seem to be no rhyme nor reason, it just appears like a ghost or spectre or some phantom. But it always ends with folks having less heads attached to their bodies than they used to. Word is beings at the top are getting scared, they don’t feel safe no more, Crimson Dawn even put a bounty out on it. I’m not sure who’s going to be mad enough to try and take it, here look.”

The weequay grabbed a grimy datapad from his jacket, it’s display lighting up at his touch. A few swipes and a list appeared, names, chain codes and prices in Basic. Skragg highlighted the third from the top and handed the pad over, the entry only read one word:  _ Vader _ .

More curious, was the symbol at the top of the screen. It was the same insignia he had found emblazoned on the dead thugs in the mine on Christophsis.  _ Crimson Dawn _ . Somehow the name sat heavy in Obi-Wan’s head, some intuition faintly warning him. The facts were assembling, pieces were beginning to fit together but too many questions remained still. This  _ Vader  _ was almost certainly the same assassin he duelled on Geonosis, but his motive, and more importantly his master, still eluded the Jedi.

But then he saw it, much further down the bounty list, but written there plain as day.

_ Anakin Skywalker _ .

* * *

Obi-Wan kept feeling Cal’s eyes on him as they walked back to their accommodation, even without a force bond, Obi-Wan suspected his padawan would be able to realise something was wrong. Barely a word had been spoken by either since they left the cantina and the boy’s worry about his master’s sudden change in mood was evident. He knew he should say something to Cal, but between his training and the outbreak of a galactic war, Obi-Wan hadn’t found the time to explain the Anakin Skywalker situation to him. He wasn’t even sure how he would. He was sure most of the padawans at the temple knew parts of the truth of what happened on Naboo and he wouldn’t be surprised if Cal had seen Obi-Wan looking at his file on the missing boy, but he was hesitant to retell the whole tale. Partly because his past shouldn’t have any influence on his training of Cal, partly because the Jedi Council had decided to conceal the presence of a possible Sith plot from the public to stop any panic; but a small part of Obi-Wan knew it was also because those memories were painful, memories of losing his master, an innocent boy and almost his own life at the hands of the Sith.

The duo rounded the corner and up the last flight of stairs to the small two conjoined rooms that Jocasta had given him the contact for. It wasn’t a pleasant place to stay but that hardly mattered, and Obi-Wan was sure it probably better than most of the alternates available on Nar Shaddaa.

As the pair entered the apartment, Cal looked around nervously and closed the door behind them, “Master? What’s going on?”

His mind was abuzz with possibilities, Anakin was alive. And not only alive, but nearby and in trouble. Again. There was a bounty on his head, and an inconsiderable one at that. So many questions rose to Obi-Wan’s mind.

“I need to meditate.” He stated simply, eyes drifting into the distance of his own mind.

Cal’s expression morphed from confusion into concern, “Master, I think I saw someone following us.”

Obi-Wan barely heard him, mind drifting back to a boy from Tatooine and a pledge made to a dying man on Naboo.

_ “Obi-Wan, you must find him, he is the chosen one. Promise me, find the boy and train him.” _

_ “I promise master…” _

“Please Cal, we’re safe here. I need to think, perhaps you should meditate too, centre yourself.”

Cal looked as if he were about to protest but the objection died in his throat as the padawan nodded and turned toward the bedroom. Obi-Wan sat himself down on the floor and tried to calm his turbulent mind, feel the force wash over him. If Anakin was on Nar Shaddaa, Obi-Wan would find him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed, remember to eat sometihng, hydrate and take any and all meds. If you want to come and chat I am @nycis on tumblr, have a delightful week and see you soon!


	7. Act I, Part IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having barely escaped Ojo's trap, Anakin is forced to face his foes, his past and his future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back! Another two weeks break but I am a slave to the whims of my writing brain. It's a bit of shorter one this week but I wanted to get it out, as always, hope you enjoy.

Anakin ran.

His footsteps echoed through the dim passageway and off the dank, graffiti covered walls. He instively ducked as another flurry of blaster bolts scored black ashen marks along the rusted metal of a panel beside him. Raising his own blaster he fired off a volley in return, barely aiming as he felt his body groan with effort, that should give his pursuers pause at the very least.

The further into the tunnel his feet carried him, the darker the lights got until he could barely make out the texture of the grimy surface of the cracked walls. The path ahead snaked through the undercity of Nar Shaddaa’s metropolis, probably originally some kind of maintenance hatch or storm drain, now a forgotten burrow in a duracrete warren.

Rounding a corner, Anakin found himself at the end of a blaster. After a panicked moment, a look of recognition flashed in Hondo’s eyes as Anakin brushed his weapon aside.

“It’s just me.” Anakin croaked, as he slumped down against the wall next to a second familiar silhouette.

Hondo grunted, “I thought you said you were going to lose them.”

“I did,” He panted out with dogged breaths, “These guys are new.”

“Skyguy,” Ahsoka muttered, managing a weak smile and resting her head on his shoulder.

“I’m here, Snips, I’m here.” Anakin instinctively put an arm around her shoulders, and looked back up at Hondo, “She’s getting worse.”

The older pirate grimaced, “Well that’s what happens when you get shot.”

Ahsoka murmured in protest, “I’m fine, don’t worry about me.”

Anakin grimaced, feeling the embers of anger rekindling in his body once again, fighting off the fatigue. He knew it was a minor miracle that anyone of them walked out of that cantina crossfire alive, let alone all three of them, but it did little to quell his rage. “We need to keep moving, I can take care of these guys. Hondo you need to get Ahsoka to your ship.”

Hondo gave the pair a worried glance, in that moment they didn’t look too different from when he had found them over a year ago; two scared and wounded kids, stuck on a barren planet with a broken starfighter and no chance of escape but ever defiant. “It’s far, I can probably carry her. Are you sure you’re going to be alright?”

“Just fine.” Anakin grit his teeth, trying to summon the stamina to stand again, hand moving over the still concealed lightsaber nestled safely in his coat pocket.

“Don’t.” Ahsoka’s weak voice managed as he felt a light touch on his hand, “It’ll only make more trouble.”

“I’m not sure we can be in much more trouble right now, Snips.”

“She’s not wrong Anakin,” Hondo cut in, “But we don’t have time to argue.”

Anakin nodded his head grimly, tightening the grip on his blaster pistol and hoisting himself back onto his feet. “Just get her back to safety. And… if I’m not there by the time more of these goons find you, take off without me.”

Hondo shot him a dire look, as he knelt down to scoop up Ahsoka’s lithe form, “Understood, but-”

“You don’t need to worry about me, head to Florrum and don’t look back. I’ll meet you, now go.” Anakin said, a little more force in his voice then he had intended. An objection died in Hondo’s throat, who gave him a curt nod, a look of sympathy on his face.

With one last look at Ahsoka and Hondo, Anakin closed his eyes and let his consciousness sink into the Force. Nar Shaddaa was like a great sea of emotions, waves roiling around him. Currents of warmth and joy where revelers enjoyed their evening, whirlpools of grief and despair where the less fortunate found themselves drowning and patches of cool tranquility where the weary rested. He pushed through the sea, commanding the waves to quiet, as he had been taught, while he focussed on the area around him. Little sparks, five pairs of street thugs, drawing closer and closer to him, he could feel their excitement, the eagerness to prove their worth, but also their fear. If only they knew what lurked around the next bend in the tunnel.

They should be so much more scared.

Anakin silently drew the knife from his belt, quietening his breathing and waiting patiently. Ahsoka was right, you never knew who was watching on Nar Shaddaa and a lightsaber was only going to draw more attention to him. Outnumbered and outgunned, but these were the odds Anakin was used to. Sidious had trained him for assassination, infiltration and coercion, no help, no back up, just the dark for an ally. He had the element of surprise on his side and that was all he needed to balance the scales.

The first grunt was dead before she could even register the dark shadow sweeping around the corner in front of her nor the blade through her neck. In a fluid motion, Anakin raised his pistol, executing the second hunter with a single precise point blank shot to the forehead. The pair behind managed a startled cry before he let off a volley of blaster fire that burnt through their gang leathers, dropping both beings managed to raise their weapons at him. As quickly as he emerged, Anakin ducked back around the tunnel’s corner and into the shroud of darkness. Letting out a ragged breath from his exhausted body, drawing on the pain he felt, Anakin once again focussed his mind.

Shouts.

Footsteps.

Cries of alarm.

He could feel the fear and panic in his foes, spreading and multiplying through their minds and bodies like a deadly pathogen. Sidious had shown him that terror was a weapon, one as potent as any blaster or lightsaber, and one he had been taught well to wield. 

Blood and darkness were old friends. This wouldn’t take long.

* * *

Over the last few months, blaster fire had become a depressing familiar sound to Obi-Wan Kenobi, he supposed it wasn’t unusual on Nar Shaddaa either, irrelevant of the ongoing war. Obi-Wan had learnt it wasn’t the sounds of blasters he despised, it was the echoing silence after, the moment the smoke cleared and the damage was revealed. Obi-Wan didn’t know why, but the same sense of expectant dread haunted him now, pulling his robe tighter over his cold shoulders, he pushed onwards.

His journey had taken him back down into the depths of the lower levels once again, winding down and down through the steel jungle of a city. He was chasing a feeling, a disturbance in the Force, he had detected it almost as soon as he started meditating. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure how he hadn’t felt it earlier, like a creeping chill crawling upwards through the city, somehow both unnerving and familiar. He hadn’t even consulted Cal before he grabbed his lightsaber and left the apartment, robe flying in his wake. The closer he drew to its source, the deeper the feeling grew. 

Bustling alleys. Winding staircases. Deserted side streets. Obi-Wan pushed through all of them, the tension inside of his body ratcheting up with each turn he made.

A scream.

Obi-Wan dropped down into the basin of a storm drain intake, a worn duracrete tunnel entrance housing the remnants of a colony of tough looking gray moss. A figure ran out from it, a wild look in their eyes. He only had a moment to register the features of the wounded rakata, clutching his shoulder in pain before there was a distinctive screech and flash of light. The being keeled over instantly, momentum carrying him along the dirty floor into the dim neon light of Nar Shaddaa’s undercity.

A second pair of footsteps echoed through the drain and Obi-Wan felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Instinctively, he used the Force to pull his lightsaber from his belt, igniting the blue blade with an effortless flourish, standing ready.

But the figure who emerged carried the same wild, desperate look in their eyes, a silent plea for help on the human’s lips. Another shot rang out, the bolt glancing the figure’s left leg, sending them tumbling over onto the cold, hard ground next to the Jedi with a yelp of pain.

And there it was. The deafening silence of anticipation.

With his blade outstretched, Obi-Wan glanced at the fallen being, wounded and probably in shock but very much alive still. The vibrant blue hues of his lightsaber mixed with the dull neon of the city above only cut so far into the darkness of the tunnel, the rays revealing a silhouette against the murky blackness.

The building terror in him threatened to overwhelm his mind, images of black swathed figures with red blades filled his mind. Obi-Wan felt himself sliding back into a defensive stance as he steeled himself and tried to calm his mind.

But the face that stalked out of the dark was neither furious red and black of a nightmarish zabrak, nor the smooth black visage of the assassin’s mask. It was something far more awful. He looked quite different from the boy in the desert he had met so many years ago, his youthful complexion and tanned skin were gone. Instead they were replaced with rough alabaster features, like a chipped marble statue, framed by longer dark hair. He was wrapped in a long dark coat, trailing down his sides like a shroud, marching confidently forwards. Some vicious fire lit was alight in his eyes and a blaster held confidently in hand, the barrel still smoking. 

The difference was vast but somewhere deep down, Obi-Wan knew it was him.

“Anakin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, remember to hydrate, eat something and to have a lovely day! I think it might take another fortnight to get this next chapter done, but the one after that is almost already done. We are hurtling towards the end of Act I and I have lots of fun (read: pain and angst) planned for the rest of the story. <3

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the first chapter, this idea has kind of run away from me and is now permanently living rent free in my brain. If you want to come chat I'm @nycis on tumblr, or you can come find the New SW Canon discord server which I help mod! I'm going to try and update every friday, uni work allowing. Remember to eat something, drink something and take your meds, have a great day! <3


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